


the marriage of dean winchester

by peradi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Crack, M/M, Marriage, Oral Sex, arranged marriage to save the world, bottom!Dean, crowley has a huge cock, crowley is a huge cock, dean has a bottom, dean is a bottom, top!Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:24:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4934077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peradi/pseuds/peradi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean marries Crowley to save the world, then has to deal with his over-abundance of manmeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the marriage of dean winchester

 

It starts the same way as stories the world over: with a very large penis.

Dean Winchester stares at it. 

The words  _coke cake_ _ _ and _ _my anaconda don't want none_   _ and  _ FUCK  _ spin around his head like some mad carousel and he stares at the penis and it stares back at him, and the Mexican stand-off ends only when the owner of the penis says, "Well it isn't going to suck itself," and Dean pales -- actually bleaches white as a fresh sheet.

"No," he says. "Gay sex to save the world is one thing -- but no son-of-a-bitch universe is worth having that shoved up my ass."

"It doesn't need to be shoved," says Crowley. He looks a little hurt at the implication. "Besides, I've been told I'm an excellent lover."

"I don't care. I ain't doing it."

"In order for the deal to be final we need to..." Crowley waves his hand. Dean closes his eyes, like a child trying to hide from the bogeyman.

Only the child is thirty-five. And the bogeyman is twelve inches of cock. 

  
  


\--

  
  


It's a bad joke. 

How do you stop the Darkness?

You make a pact with Hell. 

How do you cement the pact with Hell?

You make the oldest deal in the world. 

  
  


\--

  
  


The oldest deal in the world -- my heart for yours, my soul for yours, together now and forever, loyalty and love and politics and everything curled together in two words --

I do. 

  
  


\--

  
  


Start with Adam and Eve. She was given to him by God, and he was given to her by God, and they did pledge themselves unto each other in sacred and unbreakable communion. 

Alright, in today's quick-divorce society weddings mean a little less -- but, bizarrely, marriage in Hell still counts for a lot. 

So, in sight of the Furies and the assembled Dukes of Hell, Dean Winchester did wed Crowley. And thus the forces of Free Will and Hell -- who, really, were formed because of free will and that's something that Dean doesn't like to think about, that Luci's will was to fall and his freedom to choose led to --

Well. Lilith. 

Anyway.  _ Anyway _ . Theological quandries aside: he married Crowley. 

They just had to...

You know. 

  
  


\--

  
  


"Just the tip?" suggests Crowley. 

"Fuck you." Dean pauses, then brightens up. "Hey - why am I the chick here? Let me fuck you."

He tugs his jeans off, wraps one hand over his limp and frightened dick and starts chafing it into life. Crowley's lip curls. 

"I rather enjoy being top."

"Shut up. Bend over. Let's get this over with."

" _ So _  seductive. I do like it when you're masterful."

Crowley stands up. He's naked. His meatsuit isn't the prettiest in the world -- soft around the edges, a bit of pudginess to the gut -- but Dean's had worse. 

"Having a bit of trouble there, mate?"

"Shut up."

He is. Little Dean is not co-operating. He thinks that the prospect of being shafted with a foot or so of dick has scared the poor thing. He turns his back to Crowley and mutters encouragement to it --

"Jessica Rabbit. Michelle Obama --" Don't judge; he likes a woman with some power. "--shit, uh --"

"Allow me," says Crowley. He reaches around Dean -- pressing his erection against the cleft of Dean's arse as he does so -- and starts to jerk Dean off with a firm, practised hand. Dean makes a noise like a dying cat. His cock finally starts to respond, swelling up in Crowley's grasp. 

"Aww," coos the King of Hell, "it's so small and cute."

  
  


\--

  
  


Dean decks him. 

Well. He tries to. He launches a punch, but Crowley grabs his wrist and spins him around -- he forgets that he doesn't have the Mark anymore, that he's just a man now, just a Hunter -- and then Dean's pressed up against the wall with Crowley at his back. 

"Fuck you," he snarls. "Just bend over and take it, there's a good bitch."

Crowley sniggers. "I don't think you're in a position to be giving orders. Love." He licks Dean's ear and sucks his earlobe and bites down and yes, yes, that's better than it should be.

Crowley's hand splays open on Dean's arse. “Let me inside,” he whispers, his voice thick and humid with lust. “You'll love it, I promise.”

Dean's not tempted. He's not. He shoves back – Crowley steps away, _humouring him that bastard_  – and kisses Crowley like he's trying to eat him alive.

 

–

 

This is not what Dean planned to happen. 

It's just that Crowley smiled at him, sharp with desire, and -- and Dean's wondered, he's always wondered -- not with Crowley, you understand -- but what would it be like to be with someone who can  _hold him down_ and --

Most of the girls he goes with are tough. Smiles like knives, kisses like fists. Clever broads with quicksilver tongues. Good with weapons. But not stronger than him. It's playacting. 

With Crowley it isn't. 

Crowley holds him down, and fills him up to the brim. Dean stretches open wider than the world, uttering high and broken sounds as Crowley plunges in and out, splitting him open with each thrust. It hurts -- but it's a good hurt, a deep and resounding hurt, a lancing-awful-wonderful pain that builds like a thunderstorm. Shatters of pleasure and shudders of  _oh FUCK_ \--

He cums so hard that he sees stars. Crowley hitches his legs up high, so Dean's knees are by his fucking ears, and increases the tempo. Dean's got no control over the depth of penetration from this angle -- all he can do is lie limp and loose and exhausted until Crowley groans and shoots his load deep inside. They lie there, gasping, as Dean registers the crawly feel of cum down the back of his thighs. 

"If you get me pregnant I'm going to fucking kill you," he says. Crowley laughs and bites his ear, hard. 

"Let's go save the world, love."

 


End file.
